Our Infertility Story | Transfer Day
In light of the one year anniversary of our embryo transfer (yesterday), I wanted to take some time to share a part of our infertility story.
I know that so many of my friends and family members have dealt with different levels of infertility. So, I figured, why not share my story in hopes that someone who is struggling might find renewed hope from our success.
Today I hope to paint a picture of our transfer day.
Eventually I will share more about what lead up to that day, and many of the days following. Some of the stories might be somewhat graphic I suppose; so if you aren’t into this sort of thing, I totally understand. I feel like it is so important to be completely transparent, though, in order to explain what we went through and what some of you might go through as well.
July 27, 2015
We were up at 7am. I hadn’t hardly slept the night before. My brain wouldn’t shut off…couldn’t shut off.
Today was the day.
This was it.
We did our normal gig; ate breakfast, got dressed, I even straightened my hair and did my makeup (even though they don’t recommend that…I wanted to feel good). I threw on my ‘Don’t worry, Be-yonce’ shirt that I had purchased just for the occasion.
We stopped by and saw Jesse’s parents before we left. Even in your 20s there is something about a hug from your parents that just makes everything better. It helped calm us down. Staci made us take a picture.
We were ready.
We made the 2 hour trip from Emporia and arrived in Overland Park a little early (I think Jesse’s nerves made their way down to the gas pedal). We stopped at our favorite gas station and then drove around just to kill time.
We were anxious.
We were nervous.
We were excited.
I can vividly remember sitting in the car with Jesse, silently praying for the best outcome of what we were about to do. I’m a sucker for superstition so I made sure to make a wish at 11:11. I can remember wishing for God to please help us and our babies. We prayed for His will, but hoped that His will was for us to be parents.
We wanted this so badly.
I can remember listening to ‘Flashlight’ by Bethany Mota thinking about how after everything we had been through in the last couple of years, the thought of being parents…being a mommy…was the flashlight that got me through.
Finally we walked inside with my momma in tow (she was already in KC so she just met us at the clinic). We signed in in the waiting room and then sat and waited for what seemed like hours.
We watched people getting called back to the normal offices. I felt for them. Here we were, about to make the final leg of our marathon and some of those ladies were just crossing the start line.
We were finally called back to the operating room of our fertility clinic.
It was time.
This is what we had been waiting for.
What we had been dreaming of.
The end of one chapter and beggining of another.
We got to the room and I had to put on the dreaded hospital gown (there is just something about having an exposed rear that I don’t care for). Jesse and mom got into their ‘space suits’ as she called it. My momma was our saving Grace that day. She is such an amazing support. If she was scared she wasn’t showing it at all. Making jokes and getting in trouble for being noisy (go figure), she had us laughing and surprisingly relaxed.
I chugged more water (apparently when they say full bladder they mean FULL). We talked to the nurses and then had a final game plan review with my doctor. My IVF coordinator turned friend, Jenny, popped in and said hello. She doesn’t know it but she is totally my hero.
She had been through infertility as well (we shared almost the same story, it was crazy). Her personality is so fun and kind and compassionate. When our hearts broke month after month, hers broke also. When she got to deliver good news she was just as excited as we were. God knew we needed her.
We finished last minute paperwork, spoke with another nurse, mom got in trouble for noise again, and my bladder was full (and so uncomfortable).
It was time.
This was really it.
It was really happening.
They wheeled me back and my little support staff followed with excitement.
We couldn’t wait.
We were about to see two of our babies for the first time!
The process went so quickly (about 15 to 20 minutes). The doctor got everything set up and then let the lab know that she was ready for the embryos. Our babies. Mom always jokes about how serious the whole thing was. They didn’t mess around! They opened a little door and passed the embryos through and the doctor did her thing. (I’m terrible with medical terms so I’ll keep it simple: The two embryos were loaded into a hose and placed in a spot that had already mapped out in a previous procedure.)
That was it.
There they were!
It was the most amazing thing I’d ever experienced.
I was pregnant.
They put warm blankets on me (shout out to those blankets, they were awesome) and after 15 minutes they lifted me from the transfer bed and onto a gurney and wheeled me back to the room.
The Valium and adrenaline must’ve worn off by this point because I can remember how badly I needed to pee. That was vetoed though for another 20 minutes. I’ve never been so close to peeing my pants.
The three of us talked about how crazy the whole thing was. The last two years of shots, mood swings, and emptiness didn’t matter anymore. We literally just witnessed a miracle!
Finally I was able to get up. They brought in photos of our two embryos and our first ultrasound! I got changed and wheeled out in a wheelchair.
That was it.
We were done yet also just starting out.
Two of our little baby popsicles had officially began their journeys; one into the world, and one into Heaven (more on that next time).
We ate Chipolte and talked about the future as we made our way home.
The hard part was over and all that was left to do was pray.
We were hopeful.
We were excited.
We were parents.